


By Her Grace

by AmeliaIsmills



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Gryffindor Heir, Harry is Lord Potter, M/M, Magical Dudley Dursley, Magical Petunia Dursley, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22794595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaIsmills/pseuds/AmeliaIsmills
Summary: Let it be known across wizarding Britain that the Heir of Gryffindor, Hermione Jean Granger, has accepted her inheritance and claimed her place in the Wizengamot. By Her Grace, the Grand Duchess of Gryphem, urges all seated members to present themselves to the Courts on the 1st of September, to join in her in a vote of no confidence to the current Minister of Magic and to hear testimony of one Harry James Potter in the matter of the return of He Who Must Not Be Named, formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 81





	By Her Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I love stories that expand upon who the Heir of Gryffindor could be. Since it is never truly defined in cannon there are so many theories to be explored, compared the cut and dry cannon about the House of Slytherin. The most common occuring theories I have read a multitude of stories consist of Harry or Dumbledore being the heir most often. I love to read Hermione centric stories and so I began to put together this idea in my head about what if Hermione was the hidden Heir of Gryffindor and how that could change things. 
> 
> I make no apologies, but I want to go ahead and BLUNTLY state that I love over the top tropes and the whole Lord and Lady trope is prevalent and rapid in my story as is an expansive goblin nation creation. I am sure there are a bunch of other themes I am missing, but I have listed the major two. 
> 
> I like to warn when I do shifts to cannon character behavior that is drastic, even when a common character trope; however, I also know some people like to be surprised. So, if you want to know the common character tropes and themes (beyond the ones used to tag) please scroll all the way to chapter endnotes and you will find the warnings.

**The Discovery**

* * *

**Gryphem Arx**

**The Duchy of Gryffindor**

There were not many things Hermione Jean Granger detested in life. 

Aside from gold brocade and being wrong, chief among all of her dislikes was ignorance without the desire to try to become something other than ignorant due to cowardice. 

She absoloutly loathed a person that remained willfully stupid so they feel safe in an unsafe world. 

Currently, this description applied to practically the entirety of the British wizarding world. 

She watched as her father looked over the  _ Daily Prophet  _ copy that had been delivered by owl. The smear campaign against Harry was going strong and it made Hermione wish more than anything that she could get in front of Fudge. She would teach the babbling buffoon to either wizard up or find himself without the confidence of the British people. 

He was elected and elected officials toppled to dust all the time. It had been a good century or so since a vote of no confidence was called, but if she claimed her Wizengamot seat then it was possible. Biting her lip in irritation, Hermione shook her head. There was a plan and she was going to stick to it. 

_ Mostly.  _

Her attention returned to Henry Granger when he let out a muffled curse. 

She sighed and walked over to look at the particularly inflammatory article she had seen that morning where Harry was turning into the next darklord, competely insane, and she was apparently his Bellatrix Lestrange. She pondered for a moment if that made Ron their Peter Pettigrew. 

Chuckling she layed a comforting hand on her father’s shoulder. 

“It is days like this where I am glad your mother cannot read the prophet without you reading it to her,” her father muttered and Hermione gave him a tight smile in commiseration. 

Her father’s squib status did not generally make any unique variations to their muggle life at large, but the secrecy spells kept her mother from being able to even read the prophet. Elizabeth Granger might have descended from the same wizarding family as her husband, but there had not been a magical born into her mother’s ancestral line since Godric’s Gryffindor’s son, Artur, had been born a squib. 

She walked the expanse of the informal dining room where they were eating breakfast. She sighed in aggravation and finally flounced back down into her chair with an unladylike huff. 

“I want to bring Harry here, now,” she finally blurted out abruptly and firmly. Her father looked up in surprise. 

“I thought Professor Dumbledore said that Ron and yourself should leave him alone this summer. That it was not safe for contact and that you would all meet in a safe location in August?” Henry asked curiously. 

Hermione gave him nod as she stood again, unable to sit still as her mind worked in circles. She thought of circumstances and options and discarded ideas as quickly as they came. 

“You know my concerns with Professor Dumbledore. They are the same ones that Cousin Hector impressed upon us before I began Hogwarts and he abdicated his role as the head of our house,” Hermione said as she walked to the great mirror in the corner of the room. 

“ _ Evigilare Faciatis. Ut, Gringotts _ ,” Hermione spoke and the mirror rippled as if she had dropped a stone into water. 

The face of a goblin filled the surface. Her account manager, Ragkrus, looked as put upon as always when she contacted. 

“Grand Duchess?” the goblin asked, only a slight bit of surprise in his voice. 

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten as she did everytime she was refered to with her title. It was hers by magical status and birthright and she knew it, but every year that passed brought her closer to taking on the full responsibility said title had chained to it. 

Her Grace, Hermione Jean Granger, the Grand Duchess of Gryphem. 

It also meant the entire wizarding world would learn of the heiress who had chosen to pretend to be purely muggleborn without a clue to her actual heritage. Originally it had been to allow her a normal life without the pressure of being the first true heir to Godric Gryffindor to be born from a squib line in over 1,000 years. There had been so many wizards and witches born into the Dagworth and Granger lines, but it was not until they married into the a forgotten line of Godric Gryffindor that both sides of the correct genetics necessary blossomed to create Hermione from Henry Edward Granger and Elizabeth Granger  _ nee _ Dubois. 

It had long since become more of a necessary armor and escape plan for both Harry and herself to parade with this charade. 

She was able to continue to function in the wizarding world as if she was an ignorant muggleborn, towing the company line of the light, and not setting a foot outside of the box they had placed her in. 

As if they had not given her the title of the brightest witch of the age. A title that Lily Potter had been given once upon a lifetime ago. 

Hermione had no doubt if Lily Potter had lived past her prime she would have begun connecting the dots to the indoctrination that permeated through every facet of Magical Britain. 

She turned her attention back to the goblin. 

“Ragkrus, I would request an audience with the King as soon as possible,” Hermione said without preamble. Her account manager’s eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth but sat silent for a few moments. 

Hermione was very close to losing the little bit of patience she had left. 

“Must I claim the right as the Duchess of Gryffindor to call upon the Ragnuk pact to summon the King for conference and negotiation?” she snapped when he set silent one second too long. The thin faced goblin sat up straight and glared directly at her. 

“It will be done, I will send word with the time and place,” Ragkrus said sullenly. 

“The place is here as I called the conference, but I will accept anytime in the next twenty four hours with at least one hour notice,” Hermione practically growled her response and finally settled as the irritating manager gave her a sharp nod and vanished as the mirror settled into the ripples. 

“ _ Finite Incantum,”  _ she ended the open connection and turned to face her father. 

“You are inviting the King of the Goblin Kingdom to Gryphem Arx?” her father asked as he stood to follow her out the double doors. 

Hermione nodded absently as she stepped onto the balcony and looked over the lake that surounded the castle. The castle and the surrounding area had been dormant and existing one step out of time for hundreds upon hundreds of years prior to her birth. It had sprung to life on the day of her eleventh birthday when she had received her Hogwarts letter and a letter summoning her to Gringotts. 

The castle, the lake, the farm lands, and the Town of Gryphem surrounded by tall mountains from every side and brimming with life had been shown to her via a mirror. Her eleven year old self had found the idea of a magic mirror quite intriguing. 

Her father had long told her the truth of his squib status and her birth as the first witch to the Gryffindor line in longer than most recorded history, but to find the ancient seat of House Gryffindor still in existence had been a boon without end. 

Upon her first bout of accidental magic, her cousin had begun her magical tutelage. They had prepared for Hermione to inherit something, even if it was just a prestigious title with no financial gain, but the truth had been beyond anything they had imagined. 

Since she had turned eleven Gryphem is where they retreated every year for summer and every holiday she came home.

The travelling mirror stood locked in an old bomb shelter of their muggle home and it was there they would enter and leave Gryphem to its twin in the family quarters of her magical estate. 

Hermione spent the months entrenching herself into the wards and learning from the castellan of Gryphem’s Arx about the people who chose to stay and go dormant when a seer had prophesised that many centuries a heir would be born that would need the magic of Gryphem. The people so loved her ancestral family that they had allowed themselves to be placed under a magical statis spell that involved runic magic, ritual, and spell crafting in a way that was almost unheard of anymore. 

The world had become so divided in the pureblood versus equality lies that they had been fed for generations that they did not even notice the ritualistic cleansing of their most ancient and powerful magic arts. They had become reliant upon simple magics that would have been considered the work of a juvenile in ancient times. The complexity of ritualistic, runic magic that pulled from the ley lines that laid over the world had slowly become something practiced in secret, by the oldest and pureblooded houses. 

Even Hermione could see that their mantra of purest of blood came from the desire to protect the magical arts that were their way of life vanishing from their society. 

Hermione blamed the poison that desire had become onto supposed light and dark sides. 

Hermione stopped her musing of the past and current social issues and reached toward the red rose bush that was potted facing the sun. She pressed her index finger into a thorn and inhaled sharply when she felt her skin pierce and blood began to pool. She raised her hands into the air and checked the distance. Satisfied, Hermione slowly brought her hands together, pressing the blood from one hand into another. 

“ _ Protocol run revelare”,  _ she stated without inflection and watched as the protocols for Gryphem Arx shimmered into view. She began to review the admittance portion of the sequences and started to wave her hand with intention to change and move runes to allow a retinue to enter the Arx with the Goblin King. 

“Your Grace?” the sound of Wilford Primrose, castellan to Gryphem Arx, spoke quietly from behind her as her hands fell to her side. 

“Lord Primrose, I apologise for not sending to you first before calling the wards forth, but I am afraid that we have very little time,” Hermione stated as she moved back within the dining room and through the doors that led into an open foyer. 

“Are we to be receiving guests?” Lord Primrose asked curiously and Hermione nodded. 

“The King of the Goblin Kingdom and a retinue of at least ten will be arriving within the next twenty four hours. We will have limited preparation time. Please have the staff ready with tea and refreshments as well as the blue sitting room prepared for accepting foreign royalty,” Hermione instructed as they walked the halls until reaching the door that led directly into the family quarters for Hermione. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Lord Primrose bowed and began to walk away.

Hermione hesitated before calling out again, “Also, once they have left, please have the Lion Room’s aired out and prepared to be inhabited for a young man. The entire suite should be opened, but do allow for admittance to and fro from my own families rooms. ”

Lord Primrose turned with a raised eyebrow, “Are you becoming betrothed?” 

Hermione raised her eyes to the heavens. It was not often that the people she ruled over completely reminded her that they were from another time and place, but their values and ideas of her unmarried state always managed to smack her directly in the face. 

“No, My Lord, not currently. The young man who will be coming to stay is called Harry Potter and he is my dearest friend and most trusted confidant. He has a destiny beyond that of a normal man and I fear that the outside world is no longer safe for him this summer,” she admitted and the man gave a jerky nod before turning on heels and walking out in what appeared to be a huff. 

A very dignified huff, but a huff none-the-less. 

Her father came up beside her and opened the door for her to walk through.

“It is going to take an insurmountable amount of old fashioned manners to undo the huff you just put him in,” her father jested as they walked the corridor. 

Hermione snorted back laughter, “Harry will win him over. Harry wins over everyone with a heart. Plus, I will politely remark that the sorting hat decided Harry was worthy of carrying the sword of Gryffindor. That will surely make the man calm down about proper decorum.” 

She turned the corner as her father slipped in the direction to find her mother and made her way to her own quarters in the Eagle’s rooms. Traditionally, these were the rooms that the spouse of the Gryfinndor Duke or Duchess would take, but she had long ago found herself more comfortable using them. 

She entered into her dressing room and found Flora Grace, her ladies maid, waiting dutifully beside the traditional crimson and gold Gryffindor robes. 

“I heard the protocol bell and saw the rune shift for visitors, Your Grace, and came directly here,” the younger girl said with a quick curtsy as she came behind Hermione and began to unbutton her morning dress. 

Hermione smiled back at the girl and changed the subject to get her mind off of the task at hand, “Have you had any luck with the young man you have had your eye on?” 

It was the right thing to say because Flora smiled brilliantly, “Yes, Your Grace. Thomas asked my da last night if he could be courting me. Gave a courting gesture an all.” 

Hermione turned and looked at Flora expectantly and smiled brilliantly when the girl showed off her leather bound necklace of a carved wolf. 

“That is lovely, Flora. Such craftmenship. Is this oak?” she asked curiously. 

“Yes, mam. His father is Tither Stormcraft and he is the town wandmaker,” Flora said as she lifted the underdress to Hermione’s robes onto her and Hermione felt the smooth touch of magic as it laced up her back. 

The dress robes were slid over the black satin and Hermione stepped into the small black flats that made for easy movement. 

“This Tither Stormcraft...was he known in my ancestors time as a wandmaker?” Hermione mused and Flora hummed in affirmation. 

“Yes, Your Grace. Well known. When you do be going public with yourself, it would be a good idea to see if Tither would like to offer up wandmaking to the public again. It would probably turn a pretty profit for Gryphem and the Duchy,” Flora said as she moved around Hermione, finally laying the last of the layers in a perfect manner. 

Hermione nodded her agreement. There were going to be a great many opportunities for her people that had been so loyal they had slept for a thousand years just to swear to Godric’s heir. 

A tinkling bell drew her attention once again away from her thoughts and she quickly hurried from the room. 

A house elf was waiting for her by the door. 

“Your Grace,” the elf said looking pleased. 

“Milsy,” Hermione greeted one of the two house elves who had chosen to sleep through the centuries. She had immediatly freed them upon the awakening and offered them jobs. They had enthuisastically agreed. 

“Lord Primrose be wanting you to know that we are to expect the Goblin King and party in approximately 54 minutes,” Milsy said matter of factly, “And he has prepared the gold sitting room.” 

Hermione turned and looked at the little elf who looked a bit nervous, “Lord Primrose said the blue sitting room would impress only a toddler and the gold was much more appropriate for entertaining the Goblin’s.” 

Hermione only just managed to hold back her laugh. More likely her castellan felt that it was more appropriate way to punish her for her impudence of inviting a non-attached or family male to live in the quarters that were traditionally the Duke or Duchesses. As they were, they would eventually be her heirs. 

Till then, the implication of Harry’s importance to her would be obvious to all of her household and her people simply by placing him in the Lion’s Rooms. 

“The gold sitting room it is,” she finally stated and made her way quickly out of the family quarters and back into the keep proper. 

She entered the gold sitting room and found her father and mother already waiting in formal attire.

She smiled at both and her mother came up to kiss her cheek. 

“Your father says that we are to expect Harry Potter in Gryphem sooner than anticipated,” Elizabeth Granger said as she went to take a seat and smiled brightly when a tea service appeared. 

Hermione laughed a little. Her mother was extremely muggle, not a bit of magic...except a touch of intuition, but Elizabeth Granger never failed to be delighted when in the presence of simple magic’s. Hermione intended for her mother to never have an opportunity where magic could be anything less than delightful to her. Elizabeth Granger might not like the idea of remaining in Gryphem, but if war arose then that is exactly where Hermione would place both of her parents. 

“If everything goes as planned, then yes, I do anticipate Harry being her soon. Even as early as the next few days,” Hermione explained as she took her own seat and a teacup floated to her. 

She gave a stern look to the tea service for it’s impudence in its assumption, but took the tea regardless. 

Her father went and took his seat by her mother just as another tinkling bell announced the arrival of their guests. 

Hermione stayed seated as Karnak, King of the Goblins, came into the room. His retinue trailing behind him. He took a look at Hermione with piercing eyes and finally laid a hand over his heart. 

“Greetings, Child of Godric,” he stated smugly and Hermione barely managed to keep her tongue at the insult of naming her a child. The appropriate term would have been Heir of Godric, but the goblins had their own grievences with all of wizarding kind. 

“Greetings, Karnak, Son of Ragnor, son of Turth, Son of Ragnuk. I am honored by the presence of one three times removed from the King of all Goblin Kings,” she answered cooly and waved her hand to the seat directly across from her. 

To rise would indicate that he was greater than her and Hermione would not weaken her position. 

“Please come and sit at my table so that we may negotiate offers and terms,” she finished and picked back up her teacup. The warmth from the cup helped her remain perfectly poised and focused. 

The King sat while watching her suspiciously. She wondered if he thought she was going to make immediate demands. 

“How fares the Kingdom, King Karnak? I heard that your spring renewal ceremony went above the expectations and flora blooms for the first time in many centuries well beneath the earth,” Hermione mused and watched satisfied as the Goblin King froze in picking up his tea cup. 

“You have very good spies, Grand Duchess,” Karnak reluctantly admitted. 

Hermione smiled sweetly, with just a little bit of savagery that she knew would be understood. 

“Oh, members of all species occassionally make way to Gryphem to have a spot of tea. All are welcome at my table when they come for the purpose of peace and justice. I even occasionally host those looking for blood and vengence,” she mused as she added another sugar cube to her tea and indicated the spoon to stir slowly with a flick of her fingers. 

Karnak grunted, “You have a good grasp of wandless magic. I had not realized how advanced you were.” 

  
“Simple magic’s,” she recognized the compliment before stating, “I truly do thank you for coming in such a quick manner. I do have an offer for you today that I believe you will find satisfactory for both parties.”

Karnak leaned back, his eyes gleaming, as she finally spoke the language goblins enjoyed the most. 

“By all means, Your Grace. Do tell us your requests,” he grunted.

Hermione laughed softly. She took a deep breath and set about turning the entirety of the situation upside down by doing the one thing the goblin would never expect. 

She started with payment instead of services. She did not have time to play the normal platitudes usually needed with the goblin host. 

“One, I will return the sword that the Goblin Kingdom has demanded back for so many centuries in payment for the Goblin Kingdom helping me to prove the innocence of Lord Sirius Black. You must simply wait for the most recent possessor of the sword to be done with it, be it by natural death or circumstances no longer warrant him having need of the sword,” Hermione stated and tried not to laugh at the Goblin King gaped at her. 

“Done,” he finally rasped with no haggling to be had, “You have a second request?” 

Hermione paused and took a deep breath. The first request was fairly simple and one she knew no goblin would ever refuse, the second was more convulated. 

“You will help me bring Harry Potter to Gryphem and divert his whereabouts from anyone searching for him until he comes of claiming age on July 31st. At that point you will escort him safely to the bank, where you will personally return the signet ring of the House of Potter to him and bear witness as he comes into his mantle of Lord Potter. Then you will help to prove that the dark lord was a half blood formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle and that he is alive,” Hermione paused and took a sip of her tea. 

Karnak was watching her with piercing eyes, “And what does the Grand Duchess of Gryffindor offer in return to this large request?” 

“I am a proponent of all magical members of society having equal rights, did you know?” Hermione asked offhandedly as she reached out and took a piece of shortbread. 

The goblin narrowed his eyes, but she continued before he could speak. 

“I plan to propose house elf protection legislation as soon as I take my seat on the Wizengamot. I have already anonymously secured the support of no less than three ancient and noble houses along with many of the minority houses. Voldemort rises and will begin to offer creatures, both dark and perceived dark, boons and promises. I will be available to offer equal opportunity, but above all and everything, I will support one cause over all others,” Hermione paused slightly for dramatics and watched over her teacup as the Goblin leaned down in interest. 

Hermione sat down her tea cup and looked straight at the Goblin King. 

“For the Goblin Kingdom support in this matter of Harry Potter, I will actively pursue the repeal of the Ministry Decree of 1631. If I am unsuccessful in having the decree overturned, I would swear by my magic and my descendents magic in perpituity. We will never turn aside your cause until wand rights are restored across all living magicals that have the capabilities to wield a focus,” Hermione agreed. 

Karnak did not even try to hide the shock as the Goblin King leaned back into his chair, “I demand a written magical vow,” he stated, a slight shake to his voice. 

“Done,” Hermione inclined her head as if listening to something and called out, “Milsy.”

The house elf appeared with a slight pop and gave a small curtsy to the table. 

“Yes, Your Grace?”

Hermione smiled, “I need the parchment I prepared from my desk and a golden quill with phoenix feathers. There is also a jar of lunaria annua ink...bring that as well.” 

The house elf’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly before popping off and then back with the requested items. 

Hermione took the parchment and handed it to Karnak. He read over the agreement and Hermione noted the incredolous look. She was giving something that the Goblin’s had demanded and desired, but never had true recourse for twofold. She had known it unlikely he would decline her generous offer. 

The Goblin King dipped the quill into the ink imbued with truth magic and signed his name. The ink glowed gold for a moment before fading into black. He handed the quill to her and she sat it down for a moment as she pulled her athame from her skirts. She could see his eyes gleaming as she pricked two of her fingers and held it over the well of ink. The blood dripped in and the ink began to glow bright as she dipped the quill into it. Pulling it out she held her hand over the quill. 

“ _ Omne necesse est quod voveris _ ,” she murmured and without further theatrics signed her name with a flourish. 

She breathed in deep and saw Karthak do the same as the unbreakable vow settled over their skins and seeped into both of their cores. 

Finally, she snapped her fingers and a copy of the document appeared. Both of the parchments rolled into a scroll and black silk ribbon tied around them. She picked one up and handed it to the King, before speaking. 

“Harry Potter lives in a muggle town at the address of 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. I fear the moment I step from Gryphem and into the house Albus Dumbledore will know I have crossed the wards. You must tell Harry’s family they have one chance to run, because once Harry Potter arrives in Gryphem that place will no longer have the protection it has provided him in the past. No child of the Gryffindor line can exist in Gryphem without calling it home and Harry Potter has descendancy from one line of Godric,” she instructed directly. 

“I look forward to our future endeavors,” she finished as a way of polite dismissal. 

It was hours later as she looked over the lake from her window that Hermione finally gave in and collapsed into a chair, mentally exhausted and slightly worried. She would rest completely as soon as Harry was in her keep. 

**Gringotts Bank**

**The Lower Levels**

Karnak grunted as he pushed himself into another of his consorts, Mishkap the eldest. The female goblin screamed as his nails bit into her skin and she bled. His blood roared as the circle around the bed began to glow again, magic seeping all around. 

He fell back in collapse as the sex magic settled and he felt the push and pull of his seed take root in Mishkap. The same sense of accomplishment that always sang inside him at the proof of his prowess settled deeper in his bones. He had accomplished more in the last twenty four hours than any king since Ragnuk could boast. 

“When shall you go to take the boy to the Grand Duchess?” Mishkap asked as she rolled to her stomach. 

Karnak answered, “Tonight. This blasted bond is pushing and pressing me in all sorts of unexpected ways to retrieve the boy and take him to safety. I believe magic itself is for the idea the way the bond struck strong.”

Mishkap was quiet for a moment, “You will be careful, yes?” 

Karnak growled at her, “Female, I need not fear a house of muggles and you shame me by thinking me unable to care for myself and my men.”

Mishkap’s eyes hooded over with anger and Karnak was not surprised to find himself pushed down and a sharp blade to his throat. Mishkap’s fury was another reason she was a favorite among his females and would probably be the one to birth his heir. He lamented an heir ever receiving the blessing of magic with twelve sons and not one worth challenging him. 

“You will be careful, King, not because you are weak but because if you die I will raze the world as we know it in vengeance,” Mishkap hissed and Karnak could not help but respond by pulling her down, the blade falling to the floor as he pressed his lips to hers. 

Outside the King’s chambers the Elder of the Kingdom stood tapping his foot. It seemed he must wait a little longer before telling his liege of the prophecy orb that had burst back into life earlier in the day. It had gone silent the day Voldemort had been defeated and when he had been ressurected and had stayed silent the Goblin’s had felt it would never come alive again. 

Still, the words were engraved in every Goblin’s brain for over a millenium. 

**He will come with darkness and shame.**

**One will rise to end the evil tirade.**

**But death is beyond even one who should rest,**

**For within her loins, is Godric’s bequest.**

**A new life will burn bright and bring about equal peace,**

**For within this coupling, Avalon’s rebirth awaits.**

The Elder stood silently waiting to tell his King that the age promised so long before was back on the gameboard. 

  
  


**Number 4 Privet Drive**

**Little Whinging, Surrey**

**The Street**

Karnak grunted as he appeared with the men he had brought with him. The only female of their group and only human was Rowan Khanna. Rowan was recently returned from a dig in Egypt and had been approved by the Grand Duchess to help with Harry and bring him to Gryphem. 

Currently her hands were in the air and she was drawing runes into the sky with her wand. 

“There are several notice-me-not spells of a substandard caterogory throughout the neighborhood and a very complex compulsion charm to press people to leave. Her Grace was correct when she assumed the blood wards harvested from Lily Potter would be barely intact,” Rowan said as she put away her wand. 

“We can enter unencumbured,” Rowan finally remarked and Karnak nodded to his blood warriors. 

The men went first and Karnak followed behind with Rowan. 

“After you, Ms. Khanna,” he said as the door swung open silently. Rowan inclined her head respectfully and slipped into the house. The lights were off as they made their way silently up the staircase and to the room as instructed by the duchess. 

“Alohomora,” Rowan whispered and the door swung open easily.

They were greeted by the  _ boy who lived  _ with a wand up and at the ready. 

“Harry Potter, we have been sent to fetch you by Hermione Granger,” Karnak said bluntly and nodded to the witch who held out the letter from Hermione. 

Harry quickly opened the parchment, eyes widening as a ghost like otter pranced off the page before vanishing, and then looked up and nodded. 

“My trunk and Hedwig are all I need to take with me,” he said quietly and watched as a goblin snapped his fingers and the trunk began to float and shrink. 

“The wards will not alert anyone with goblin magic. Her Grace advised us to tell your muggle relatives that they should pack their bags and leave the country,” Rowan said and Karnak was glad to see the boy nod. 

“We should wake Aunt Petunia and tell her. Uncle Vernon will not react kindly to the intrusion of his home or his sleep,” Harry suggested, “Or on second thought maybe we should leave a note.” 

“There is no need to awaken anyone, the muggle woman is awake,” one of the goblins stated and was staring at the doorway where Petunia Dursley stood deathly still. 

“So, this is it. You are going to be leaving?” the woman said and Harry nodded. 

“You and your family should leave the country for a bit...go on holiday,” Rowan said before Harry could speak, “Perhaps put the house on the muggle market and find another place to make home.”

Petunia gave a tight nod, but never moved her eyes away from Harry as if she wanted to say something. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, resembling a trout, Karnak thought. 

She never spoke though, just swirled around and marched back to whence she had come. 

“That woman has magic,” Borg grunted and Karnak shot him a quelling look to be quiet. The other goblin grunted acquiescene but Karnak could see his blood warrior wanted to follow the woman to figure out the mystery. 

He shook off the oddity of the situation and motioned for Harry to come closer. He set the mirror he had brought with them on the floor and waved his hand. The mirror immediatly grew in size and began to shimmer in waves. 

“Well, Mr. Potter, step through the looking glass. I will come to personally fetch you on your birthday. Ms. Khanna will apparently be joining you on this journey,” Karnak instructed and was pleased that Harry, while wide-eyed, did as he was told and stepped through the shimmering glass. 

Rowan followed behind with the boy’s chest and owl. 

“Rowan, may I remind you that you do work for the bank,” Karnak stated as the woman went to step through. She turned with a raised brow. 

“I thought I worked for the benefit of the goblin nation,” she retorted before vanishing through the shimmer. 

Karnak sighed and waved a hand again to shrink the mirror. He picked it up and placed it back in the protective bag. Looking around in disgust at the small room and its lack of personal effects. He took in the door that had multiple locks and the bars on the window. He thought back to the simpering relative of the Potter boy and once again the feeling of something being off overtook him. 

“Drak,” he said to one of the goblins. 

“Yes, My King?” the goblin in question immediatly asked. 

Karnak thought for a moment if he really wanted to wade into the disaster he was about to start unearthing and finally decided that he would. 

“Make sure to document and photograph these conditions and I want that muggle woman tested for curses and spells. Something stinks in this house.” 

Borg glared with aggravation at being looked over, but Karnak would not reward one who thought their king stupid enough to miss the magical signatures all over the muggle woman. 

The goblin looked toward him with a raised brow, but responded quickly, “Your will be done.” 

  
  


**Gryphem Arx**

**The Entry Hall** ****

Hermione stood waiting as the mirror chimed three times to let her know that someone was seeking entry into the Arx. Given that there was currently only one traveling mirror active currently not in Gryphem it could only be one pair of people coming. 

Lord Primrose was standing beside her as was Flora. She supposed she would need to explain to Harry as soon as possible that he would be getting a valet and it would be a grave insult to the people of Gryphem if he refused one of their own. 

She could not help but smile as Harry slipped through the glass and she was throwing herself at him without a lick of common courtesies. The strangled sound of Lord Primrose did not, however, stop her in the least. 

Harry’s arms came up around her and he was soon babbling. 

“I didn’t think… when no letters came,” he was saying and Hermione could practically feel her blood freeze. 

“Harry, I have written every week for the past month since school let out,” she quietly stated. 

Harry pulled back and looked at her in shock, “I have not received any letters, Hermione.”

“Dumbledore,” Rowan stated and Hermione looked at the pretty woman stepping all the way through the mirror, “There were repelling wards with his signature around the entirety of the neighborhood. No owl would have been able to make it through. Would have been better sending an elf.” 

“Ms. Khanna, welcome to Gryphem Arx. I thank you for your services and have set aside rooms for you to use while you are a guest in our home,” Hermione responded cooly with a shuttering look. She would tell Harry all about the manipulations that had been going on in his life and she did not need the help. 

Rowan did manage look abashed for only a moment before pushing through, “Karnak said you wanted to have the boy looked over for curses and charms. I would highly recommend also bringing a healer sooner than later. He has three fractured ribs, a badly set broken wrist, and he is at the very least two stones underweight and malnourishment is keeping his magic from helping heal his body.”

Hermione heard Harry begin to protest and she put a hand on his wrist and turned it slightly, immediately noticed the bruising. She was doubly shocked when her own castellan practically strong armed her out of the way and waved his hand over Harry. She watched, a bit shocked, as a diagnosis scope appeared in front of Harry and the man began cursing in latin. 

Silent and wandless magic with an affinity for healing. The things she learned about Lord Primrose continued to astonish her. 

“I will send for the village healer and the herbalist as well. A series of healing and boosting potions should be started immediately. I will send for a pain draught now,” the man hummed as he slowly turned Harry’s wrist over. 

“We are going to have to break it again, lad,” the man said regretfully. 

“I don’t want a healing draught...they make me sleepy and I can’t wake up,” Harry said quietly, but Hermione quickly nipped that in the bud. She waved Lord Primrose off to do as he had spoken. 

“Harry, I know you do not want to be defenseless, but I promise you that there will never be a time where you have to worry for your safety in Gryphem,” Hermione assured him. 

Harry looked at her, almost innocent in his obvious desire to believe her, but then his eyes shuttered and he seemed to shake himself out of his want. 

“Where are we, Hermione?” he asked quietly as his eyes darted around to the marble floors and vaulted ceiling. 

Hermione smiled, “You are in my ancestral home, Gryphem Arx,” she explained as she began to lead him out of the hall and directly into the family quarters as she felt the castle shift to provide a closer entry way. She took him to one of the balcony alcoves and waved her hand out over the land. 

“Your ancestral land?” Harry inquired as he watched with huge eyes over the lake, the forest’s, and the lights of the town twinkling in the darkness. 

“Yes. You are in Gryphem Arx, the ancestral seat of the Duchy of Gryffindor,” Hermione explained. 

Harry looked at her silently, waiting for her to continue and Hermione smiled at him sheepishly. 

“Come, let me show you. Have you ever seen a magical family tree?” she said as she led him back inside, “I know the Weasley’s have one, but I never saw it.”

Harry shook his head negatively and Hermione hummed at the knowledge. She always assumed they kept it in a private family area. The older Wizarding families tended to be extremely cautious of allowing even friends knowing who was a blood relative. Even blood taken from a family member generations apart could be used for many spells, specifically the desecration and destruction of protection wards laid with familial intent. 

“This is a family tree line,” Hermione waved her hand at the wall with a long tapestry that began at one side of the room and wrapped the entirety of two walls. She led him to the very beginning where Godric’s name shone on an ancient looking piece. Then she walked him the route of the room, showing him where his own family was interwoven into the Gryffindor line, ending with his name. He reached out and pressed a hand over his parent’s name. 

Hermione reached out and clutched it as they continued to finally land on the newest and least worn piece. She watched his face as his eyes widened at the names and hers. 

“So you’re…,” he asked quietly. 

“Technically, I am the Grand Duchess of Gryphem, but to you I am only Hermione as I have always been,” she said quietly. 

Harry reached out again and touched her great grandfather’s entry, fingers dancing over the name of Aislinn Gryffindor. 

“Is the same one…,” he began to ask but cut off at Hermione’s nod. 

“You could say we are some odd number removed in the cousin caterogory. Your lack of living Potter family and my position as head of Gryffindor makes you my responsibility in a way,” Hermione explained but wished she had bit back a bit of the explanation when Harry’s eyes shuttered. 

“It was never a factor in our friendship, Harry. I hid my birthright so that I could live a fairly normal childhood and concentrate on my studies and become respected for my own achievements before it became known that I am the Heir of Gryffindor. Then you came into the picture and I had more reasons to guard Gryphem and my secrets. I waited till we were close enough to your birthday when you can claim your own title. When you claim the title of Lord Potter then you can renew your oaths as a vassel to Gryffindor and I can formally begin going after the people on my list,” Hermione assured him quietly. 

“List?” Harry asked in curiousity and Hermione smiled sadly. 

“Come, little cousin. Let’s talk about the cleansing of our worlds ways and the manipulation of one headmaster,” Hermione said quietly and reached a hand out. Harry grasped her hand and allowed himself to be led to a set of chairs before a fire. 

Leaning back, Hermione began to tell the story that she had been dreading telling for almost five years. 

  
  


[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183137222@N05/49554182742/in/dateposted-public/)

**The Lake of Fyndor**

**The Duchy of Gryphem**

Hermione laughed as Harry splashed one of the town children in the lake. She was sequestered under a magical umbrella almost larger than her home in England and watching the theatrics with no small amount of joy. 

Her mother and Rowan had joined her on the shore as Harry ran rambuctious with the little ones. 

Three weeks into Harry’s time in Gryphem and already her dearest friend was healing in a way she didn’t expect. The mind healer had been extremely smart and Hermione had brought the short, cheerful American Wizard to stay in Gryphem. The goblin’s had assured her of his trustworthiness and Hermione’s own instincts had assured her that Bobbin Picquery was someone she could allow access to Harry’s mindscapes. 

It was also Healer Picquery that brought to everyone’s attention the shadow that hid deep in the recesses of Harry. It had taken a full seventy two hours for the Gryphem library to be scoured and Hermione was beginning to think they would have to reach outside her own resources when a small note in the margin of an old tome in latin with the latin words,  _ pars animae  _ had caught her attention. The naming of the word let them down a rabbit hole of information and by the end Hermione had been more horrified than exhausted. 

**Horcrux** . A piece of Tom Riddle had been broken off and shoved in Harry. The non-consentual idea of it was beyond the very bounds of nature to Hermione. It did possibly explain the dramatic shift of a political savvy Tom Marvel Riddle into the insane, sociopathic Lord Voldemort. If the man had just remained on the same path as he had begun, there was a highly likely chance that Hermione would have been raised by a magical, adoptive family and her own parents shut out from her world completely.

Sighing Hermione reached for the water beside her and drank deeply. She was supposed to be relaxing, but instead she could not make her brain shut off with theories and solutions. 

The first thing they had to do was get the piece of Voldemort’s soul out of Harry. It had taken a good five days, but Rowan had finally convinced her to contact the Goblin’s. They would just have to settle for good old payment of gold this time, though, as she was running out long, sought goblin desires to fulfil for the host. 

“Your Grace,” a quiet voice called out and Hermione turned her head to smile at Flora. 

“Flora, I thought you were spending the day with Thomas,” Hermione said as the girl came down the sand. 

Flora blushed, but shook her head. 

“Thomas’s da needed his help at the last minute. Ms. Khanna came to see him with some saplings from her family land and the both of them are acting like they were children without a lick of sense. Thomas said they’d been up all night working with the wood examples she brought from the adults trees and when they went outside this morning, Nita Frinka from the apothecary was standing there holding an item wrapped in silk,” Flora took a deep breath. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow in question. 

Flora seemed a bit baffled, “Well, My Lady, you have heard the legend of Kilgharrah?” 

Hermione hummed in interest, “They say that Merlin, himself, was a dracosequitar...able to speak with dragons and that the dragon Kilgharrah became his bonded familiar and friend.” 

Lady Flora nodded, “Yes, Your Grace. It is said that when Kilgharrah died, he charged Merlin to remove two scales and his heartstring and to incase them in amber. Then he told him to wrap them in the accromentala spun silk and place them in a chest that would be locked with magic to only open when the one who would wield a wand with the scales and the string inside was created. The only idea of who this child could be came from another text after Merlin dissappeared from Nimue.”

Hermione could not help but lean forward at the intriguing tale. 

“What did Nimue allude to?” she asked, unable to pull her eyes from her handmaid. She barely registered Harry’s return, only sensing him taking a seat on a towel beside her lounger. 

Flora flushed at the attention of the small group paying attention to her. Elizabeth and Rowan had both forgotten their own books and had begun paying attention. Harry just looked back and forth between Hermione and Flora. 

“They say that Nimue scryed through the crystal cave, using all of the resonation to draw energy to cast herself far into the future. Then she asked for guidance to the one that would be gifted with such a powerful wand core. The only thing she was apparently able to divine was that the child would be born of a lion. In all honesty, we assumed it would belong to the one who awoke Gryphem, but you arrived with a wand,” Flora paused perplexed before continuing.

“Well, that chest has been the duty of House Frinka, which was originally the House of du Lac, for longer than Godric Gryffindor was a man of flesh. Late yesterday the chest opened and inside with the silk and the objects was a note. It simply stated  _ factorem baculum magicum” _

“Wand maker,” Hermione stated under her breath and Flora smiled brightly, “But who is it for?” 

Flora seemed to hesitate before slowly asking, “Your Grace, is there any possibility that you are with child?

Hermione snorted her disagreement and then leant back to think before hearing her mother make a squeking noise. She looked over at Elizabeth Granger and felt her own heart skip a beat. Her mother looked pale and was watching Flora with wide eyes. The most interesting thing was how her hand was pressed against her stomach. 

“Mother?” Hermione asked with her eyebrow raised. 

“Surprise?” Elizabeth Granger said with a graceful shrug of her shoulders.

Hermione sat quietly thinking about this turn of events. 

She had not been planning to have children anytime soon and this would ensure that she had an heir in place in case the turmoil in Britain led to her death. 

“Hermione?” her mother’s voice sounded a bit worried and Hermione snapped out of her head and smiled at Elizabeth. 

“What wonderful news, Mother. A sibling. I never even expected,” Hermione made sure to infuse her voice with excitement. 

Hours later as she sat in her dressing mirror, wild hair spilling over her shoulders as tears spilled down her cheeks. She was being utterly stupid and she knew it, but she could stop the tears from coming. 

“Hermione?” Harry’s hesitant voice came from the door and she turned around, wiping at her cheeks. 

He looked at her with kind eyes. 

“I am not upset about being a sister. I used to always want a sibling,” she defensively shot out. 

Harry snorted and came up and pulled a chair beside her. He took her hands in his and Hermione met his eyes, the green seemingly piercing into her soul. 

“Our world is scary right now and with Voldemort back and Dumbledore attempting to play chess with real wizards and witches, it is a scary place to envision a child,” Harry solemnly spoke and Hermione felt something ease inside of her. Harry always seemed to understand. 

“I just wish they waited till after the war was over,” she said hoarsely and Harry nodded in agreement. 

Hermione forced the emotion back, though, and straightened her shoulders. 

“Now, where are you on your summer work? Lord Primrose said you were working on a transfiguration paper?” 

Hermione watched as Harry gave her a wry grin and felt the world slot back into place. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You will find the following in my story, 
> 
> Manipulative and Narrow-sighted Dumbledore.  
> Lazy, greedy, and corrupt Ron  
> Scheming, Match-making Molly  
> Decent, but trapped Draco  
> Abused, PTSD Harry  
> Magical and Manipulated Petunia 
> 
> Other warnings to remember: Goblin sex. Underage sex (not detailed), but not under the age of consent. Creative liscensing with how magic works.


End file.
